The Golden Circle

A click sounded above, and a pale yellow circle dropped right onto the wool rug. I stood at its outer rim, utterly still. Warmth began to seep into the fibers. Slowly, I took one solid step inside. The glow wrapped around my paws, thick and heavy like syrup. Right in the middle lay an ordinary, smooth glass marble. With one deliberate push of my nose, I nudged it. The marble rolled three inches, caught the beam, and held a tiny bright spark inside its belly. I pressed my chin down beside it, humming softly. The circle belongs to us now.